Stand My Ground
by Sassy Lil Scorpio
Summary: Surrounded by the naïve and sheltered residents in the Alexandria Safe-Zone, Rick Grimes remembers Shane Walsh.


**Stand My Ground**

 **A Walking Dead Fanfiction by Sassy Lil Scorpio**

 **Disclaimer: ** Shane Walsh, Rick Grimes, and all other characters from _The Walking Dead_ are from the creative imagination of Robert Kirkman. This author makes no claim of ownership. No monetary gain is being made from this work.

 **Summary:** Surrounded by the naïve and sheltered residents in the Alexandria Safe-Zone, Rick Grimes remembers Shane Walsh and his survival philosophy: if you don't fight, you die.

 **Rating:** T

 **Author's Notes:** This fanfic came to me after watching the show and reading online articles that review how Season 5 Rick Grimes became similar to Season 2 Shane Walsh. There were interviews with Andrew Lincoln about it, and even Jon Bernthal had mentioned it to him. This fic was also inspired by "Stand My Ground" by Within Temptation as I felt the song really matched Shane's and Rick's personalities in those seasons. I also took some liberties with the scene from S5E16 "Conquer".

 **Dedication:** For Andrew Lincoln: you *are* Rick Grimes and you do an awesome job showing the various changes the character goes through in the story. I can't see any other actor breathing life into Rick the way you do—keep up the fabulous work!

* * *

 _The nail that sticks out will be hammered down. –Japanese Proverb_

 **oOo**

 _I can see  
When you stay low, nothing happens  
Does it feel right?_

 _Late at night  
Things I thought, I put behind me  
Haunt my mind_

" _Stand My Ground" –Within Temptation_

* * *

 _Then_

"You know I'm gonna go get him some flowers and candy. Look at this folks, we back in fantasy land!"

Shane made sure the sarcasm in his voice was obvious, so that no one mistook his suggestions for actually wanting to help the prisoner. He couldn't believe that Rick had brought this kid back here without considering the possible ramifications. Now they wanted to patch up the kid's leg, give him a care package, and send him on his merry way. The whole thing was so ridiculous, and Shane would've laughed if he knew there was no possibility of the kid's group coming back to the barn to start serious trouble.

He decided to leave the house and get some fresh air. Everyone's naivety was stifling him—especially Rick's. Shane left the room and turned around when he heard Hershel behind him.

"You know, we haven't even dealt with what you did at my barn yet. Let me make this perfectly clear once and for all: this is _my_ farm," Hershel said, refusing to back down from Shane. He had wanted to make his thoughts known and this was the perfect time. "Now I wanted you gone. Rick talked me out of it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. So do us both a favor and keep your mouth shut."

Shane looked annoyed, but he said nothing as he listened to Hershel. He placed his hands over his head, in an effort to control the anger boiling inside of him. No matter what he said or did, no one was getting it. Everyone wanted to be kind-hearted as though this would aid in their survival. Shane knew better. This world had gone to hell and if you helped the wrong person at the wrong time, it meant your death or the death of your loved ones—but he was done saying his piece. Hershel said he wanted him gone and told him to shut up in front of everyone. Rick just stood there, letting it happen, not giving any validity to Shane's concerns, and by not saying anything, it showed he agreed with Hershel…

Shane stormed out of the house and didn't turn around when he heard the door slam behind him.

 **oOo**

"I just finished speaking with Shane," Andrea said. She caught up with Rick just as he was heading towards the tent that he and Lori shared. "You need to talk with him."

"He won't listen to me or anyone else."

"Actually, it's the other way around."

Rick blinked. Did he hear Andrea right? "What did you say?"

"It's the other way around—no one's listening to Shane."

"Because of how he comes across. You haven't known Shane for as long as I have, okay? He's hot-headed and is his own worst enemy." He glanced at the tent, knowing Lori had to speak with him.

"I spoke to him about that, Rick. I told him he makes the right calls, it's his presentation that needs work."

Rick was shocked that Andrea, of all people, was advocating for Shane. "That's not the only thing Shane needs to work on. His entire attitude and outlook needs to change. He's on Hershel's farm and he doesn't get to call the shots around here."

Andrea shook her head. When she spoke again, she didn't hide the anger in her voice. "You know something, Rick? He's looking out for the group. He has everyone's best interest in mind. Your wife called him an 'asshole' after he brought her back safely when she was out there looking for you. Did you know that? That was her way of _thanking_ him."

"Andrea—"

She ignored Rick's attempt to get a word in. "As for that kid you brought back—Shane's right. If his friends come looking for him, we'll have a war on our hands. Shane is only trying to protect everyone here—including you. You should consider where he's coming from before you dismiss him."

Before Rick could respond, Andrea walked off in the opposite direction. Rick thought quickly about what to do. He knew Lori wanted to speak with him, probably about Shane. Everything these days revolved around what Shane did or said. There was no way to avoid the ripple effects he was causing in the group. First, with the barn incident, and now with this prisoner. After what Andrea said, Rick knew he had to find him.

 **oOo**

He found Shane pacing back and forth outside by the barn and talking to himself in a rushed whisper. He didn't know why Shane chose that place to isolate himself after what had recently occurred there, but he wouldn't ask him about that. He needed to have a man-to-man talk with his best friend, to try to get through to him that what he doing wasn't working and that what he was saying—it wasn't right. Rick could tell by Shane's gait that he was agitated, but he still had to speak with him. He was circling around again when Rick stepped in front of him, blocking him from going forward.

"Shane, listen to me. We're gonna talk."

"What the hell do you want?!"

"Back there with Hershel," Rick gestured towards the house. "Durin' that conversation about the prisoner, the barn situation…You didn't handle those situations right. You were wrong, brother."

Shane stared at Rick for several seconds and rubbed his head quickly. A scornful smile flashed across his face.

" _I'm_ wrong, Rick?! Really? Mr. Delusional tells me to shut my mouth in front of everyone and I'm 'sposed to grin like I won the lottery."

"Yes, you're—"

"No, _you're_ wrong," Shane cut Rick off. "You gotta wipe your face, _brother_ ," he spat out the word with venom. "You got that old man's shit all over your mug—you been kissin' his ass too long."

Rick's eyes narrowed. "That's enough, Shane. You're _wrong_. End of story."

"We're gonna end up dead or worse. First, we had a barn full of walkin' rottin' corpses that Hershel calls his 'family'." Shane let out a derisive laugh. "Family, my ass."

"They _were_ his family—that's the point."

"That man's twisted in the head," Shane said, tapping his temple, "and I don't know how you don't see it. Keepin' walkin' dead folks in a barn is right up there with Norman Bates. Only difference is Bates' mother was decayin' in the fruit cellar and Hershel's 'family' was still movin' aroun' in there an' could kill you if they escaped."

"Thanks to you breakin' open the barn, that's no longer a possibility."

"Speak a little louder, Rick. I didn't hear the gratitude in your voice."

Rick waved him off. "Comparin' Hershel to Norman Bates is crazy talk. Why are we still on this?"

"'Cause _you_ came looking for _me_ wantin' to talk, so now we gonna talk." Shane's dark brown eyes pierced Rick's clear blue eyes. "You brought this piece of garbage kid back here. His friends will find out where he is—they'll come lookin' for him and before you know it, we'll have a war on our hands."

"We don't know that. He's not dangerous."

"So you think."

"So I _know_ , Shane."

"No, Rick." Shane shook his head. "That's the thing—you don't know a damn thing. You think you do, but you don't." He started to rush past Rick, when Rick stepped in his path again. "What are you doin'?"

"I'm stoppin' you before you do somethin' worse."

"Jus' let me be."

"I won't let you."

"Yeah, 'cause _you_ make all the rules now, huh, Ranger Rick. Why'd you bring back that kid? So he can bake cookies with Carl? Milk the cows with Hershel?"

Rick took a deep breath and struggled to maintain a calm composure. Shane's comments were chipping away at him, but he wouldn't allow him to see the effect he was having. They had never argued like this before the outbreak. They had had their share of disagreements, but nothing this severe or personal.

"You need to stop and calm down." Rick's voice took on an authoritative tone now. "What you're doin'—and how you're actin'—it's makin' things worse. It's not helpin' anyone."

"And you're helpin' matters? Don't make me piss my pants with your funny jokes."

"I'll tell what you what you're doin' or what's gonna happen if you don't stop this."

"Be my guest."

"The nail that sticks out—" Rick started.

In an instant, Shane was eyeball-to-eyeball with Rick before he could finish quoting the Japanese proverb. Shane's dark eyes were lit with fury, his demeanor threatening as he loomed in front of Rick with his fists clenched tightly.

"Whatcha' gonna do?! Hammer me down, Rick? Is that what you're sayin'? Is that what you're threatenin' to do to me? 'Cause I'd love to see you try."

"That's not what I'm sayin'."

Rick raised his hands to indicate he meant no harm. He was tired of all the arguing and fighting with Shane. He was defensive all the time, exploding at the slightest thing. Rick felt he could recite the ABCs and Shane would snap at him for singing it off-tune.

"I just need you to stand down. You need to know when to step back."

Shane seemed to have heard what Rick asked of him. He released his clenched fists and leaned back against the barn, staring off into the distance.

"Why are you like this now?"

"Like what?"

"Always agitated. The littlest thing sets you off."

Shane shrugged and didn't answer.

"This isn't the Shane I know. I mean, he was always hot-headed, but he still had a good heart."

"That's never changed, Rick. Not sure why you'd think less of me. I made my share of mistakes, but…" His voice trailed off. "I do what I gotta do for those I love." He shrugged again, almost uncertain of himself now, in contrast to how confident he came off just moments ago.

"It's just all this anger, you push away others even if you don't mean to."

Shane's eyebrows furrowed together as though he had heard those words before. "Did Andrea put you up to this?"

Might as well be honest. "Yes, she did. She told me she spoke with you earlier."

Rick decided to reach out to him and give him understanding. That's what Andrea asked him to do, so he would give it a shot. He leaned against the back wall of the barn, next to Shane. He hoped by imitating Shane's body language that it indicated he was trying to be on the same level as him, that he was listening to what he had to say.

"All this fighting and for what, Shane? Where does it lead you? It wasn't always like this and you know it."

Shane stared at the ground now. Rick thought that maybe he was feeling regretful for his behavior with Hershel, the barn incident, and now this recent argument. Whenever Shane was at a loss for words, he stared at the ground or looked elsewhere—anywhere but Rick.

"It wasn't, because a month ago the world wasn't swarmin' with crawlin' corpses that devour any livin' thing—man or animal. You had a home to go to at the end of the day. Order. Stability. Life and death decisions weren't made every wakin' moment. We didn't go from campin' to this—" Shane gestured wildly at the woods, Hershel's barn, and home. "We weren't goin' from place to place with no end in sight."

"We will find a home, maybe not today or tomorrow, but we will. I'll do whatever it takes to get all of us permanent shelter. Just think: a roof over our heads, warm food, safety, running water, and clothing. We'll do it together. We'll find a way."

"What's this 'we' talk?"'

"You can't go at it alone, Shane. We need each other to survive, all of us do."

Shane didn't speak for some time and Rick thought that for a moment, he had gotten through to him. When he finally spoke again, the fury had left his voice, and Rick thought he sounded as though he was keeping sadness at bay.

"Keep dreamin' your pipe dreams. Ain't nothin' out there for us. Fort Benning is probably overrun by now. We're livin' in hell, an' it's only a matter of time before our time is up."

"That's not true. I can't believe that." Rick chose his next words carefully. "I _refuse_ to. There's always hope."

The brief calmness Shane had exuded quickly evaporated. "You're in denial, Rick, you're as delusional as Hershel with your wishful thinkin'. All that hope and idealism is gonna get us killed. We gotta live in the real world."

Rick stepped away from the barn and came over so that he was in front of Shane. He faced his best friend now. "Look me in the eye an' tell me that to my face."

Shane glared at Rick as he straightened up and leaned into his best friend's face. "We. Gotta. Live. In. The. Real. World. It's the only way we can survive and it doesn't get any simpler than that."

"You think I don't get it—that I don't see what this is?!"

"I _know_ you don't get it, Rick. Close your eyes, hide from the truth, pretend everything is how it used to be—when it ain't!" Shane pushed off against the barn and started pacing again. "It's like I'm talkin' to a wall with you—nothin' gets through!"

Rick didn't flinch. He refused to let Shane see that his words got under his skin. Not just "get under", but really dig deep beneath the surface, burrow into his conscience, making holes that would never be filled by any apologies no matter how heartfelt. Then again, it wasn't the words that bothered him. It was the never-ending cycle of arguing, fighting, and each man trying to outdo the other, striving to convince the other that their worldview was the right one to live by. It felt as though they were never best friends or police partners—more like sworn enemies during their entire lifetimes.

"I'm not lookin' to be Hero of the Year or Man of the Century. I'm doin' what it takes to survive an' I hope one day that you get it, Rick. I really do. You wanna live? Survive? Then you gotta fight like hell for it, 'cause it's not gonna get any easier, it'll only get harder from here on."

"Get what?" Rick had been lost in his thoughts and unintentionally tuned out Shane. He turned to him now.

"Damn it! Why am I even wastin' my breath on you—you don't get it! None of them do!" Shane pointed in the direction of Hershel's home. "You just sit around with no plan! Hesitate when you can act! You can't be like that anymore, Rick! Wishin' for things to be the way it was before ain't gonna bring that dream t'us. You gotta live in the here an' now, not the I-wish-it-could-be-the-way-it-was-before. By the time you realize that—by the time you finally accept the world we're livin' in—I won't be around t'say 'I told you so'."

Shane stomped off towards the woods surrounding the farm, his frustration emanating him so strongly that Rick recoiled. Rick caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder in an effort to bring him back.

"Don't touch me," Shane growled as he shoved Rick away. "Jus' leave me the hell alone."

Shane stalked deeper into the woods, snatching sticks and breaking them. Rick watched him and decided he could hold his own. Neither Rick nor Shane had any inkling that his words foreshadowed what lay ahead in the future…

 **oOo**

 _Now_

"You _still_ don't get it. None of you do!"

" _Why am I even wastin' my breath on you—you don't get it! None of them do!"_

"You! You just sit and plan and hesitate!"

" _You just sit around with no plan! Hesitate when you can act!"_

"You pretend like you know when you DON'T!"

" _That's the thing—you don't know a damn thing. You think you do, but you don't."_

"You wish things weren't what they are. Well, you wanna live? You want this place to stay standing? Your way of doing things is DONE! Things don't get better because you _want_ them to."

" _You can't be like that anymore, Rick! Wishin' for things to be the way it was before ain't gonna bring that dream to us. You gotta live in the here and now, not the I-wish-it-could-be-the-way-it-was-before."_

"Starting right now, we have to live in the real world."

" _We gotta live in the real world."_

"It's gonna get people killed. It's already gotten people killed."

" _We're gonna end up dead or worse."_

"If you don't fight, you die."

" _You wanna live? Survive? Then you gotta fight like hell for it, 'cause it's not gonna get any easier, it'll only get harder from here on."_

Rick was caught in that strange, yet blissful state between wake and sleep. Between awareness of the present state and reliving past experiences. A unique middle place between reality and dreams. He wanted to wake up, but he was content to keep resting and remembering.

Snippets of his past conversations with Shane overlapped with the furious tirade that he released on Deanna Monroe and the Alexandrians. Shane's voice was preserved in his memory and Rick could hear him as though he were sitting right next to Rick having the same conversation again. He pictured Shane standing in front of him outside by Hershel's barn. Then Rick saw himself in his mind's eye: on his knees, his face bloodied from the fight with Pete, waving a gun and shouting at the Alexandrians that they didn't know anything about surviving in the new world.

His voice and Shane's voice echoed in his mind. At first, they were out of synch, but the more he heard one phrase repeatedly, the more both men's voices harmonized together: _If you don't fight, you die._

Rick blinked at the light filtering in his eyes and slowly woke up. His hand felt stiff and he noticed white gauze wrapped around his wrist and fingers. His head ached and he touched his face, feeling more bandages. He sat up and realized he had been resting on a bed. Thoughts of Shane still lingered in his mind. He felt as though Shane was willing him to wake up, face the world, and fight whoever got in his way. Did he really yell at Deanna and brandish a gun while covered in blood?

 _You were right all along, Shane. I bet you're lookin' down at me from heaven or wherever you are…shakin' your head sayin', I told you so._ The thought of telling Shane he was right made Rick wince at first, and then he chuckled. _Don't be mad that it took me longer to get to where you were. I know you can be hot-headed, but I got there, right? That's all that matters._

"What's so funny?"

That voice didn't belong to Shane. It was Michonne's.

Rick was surprised. "You were here the whole time?"

"All night." Her tone didn't change. "What's so funny?"

Rick's blue eyes widened and met Michonne's brown eyes from across the room. She sat in a chair, arms folded across her chest and staring at him as he came around. He thought she looked extremely serious—which she usually did, but for some reason it bothered him now. She had no idea why he chuckled and he wasn't sure if he should share with her what was going through his mind: memories of Shane trying to make him understand about the "the real world"—and now he was trying to get the Alexandrians to understand what was out there. He had come full circle and not in Shane's timing, but in his own timing. He wondered what Shane would say if he was still alive to see how much Rick had changed.

Rick closed his eyes as other memories haunted him.

Shane was gone forever and Rick would never be able to tell him that he finally understood him after all this time. He had killed his best friend. Shane had lured him away from everyone to murder him—he had spiraled downwards to the extent that Rick didn't recognize him as the best friend he knew since high school. After all this time, Rick forgave him…but he would never forget him.

Ever since entering the Alexandria Safe-Zone, he could sense Shane's presence and hear his words reverberate in his mind: _"By the time you finally accept the world we're livin' in—I won't be around t'say 'I told you so'."_ Whenever Rick had tried talking to Deanna about protecting the town, he felt as though Shane was his shadow—he knew he was there with him, watching everything. He couldn't explain it to anyone. It wasn't like being at the prison when he thought he saw Lori, and after a certain time, he stopped seeing her image and he realized he was hallucinating. No, Shane was with him, only he couldn't see him. His thoughts were Rick's thoughts, and Rick's feelings were Shane's.

It was comforting, but also frustrating.

Rick wished Shane was still physically there as his best friend, police partner, and brother. He wished things didn't go down the way they did between them. Now when he needed Shane most, he wasn't there. Rick had survived many life-threatening situations—the Governor, Terminus…He had done it without Shane, and yet, he couldn't help but wonder how his best friend would've responded if he were still alive and with the group. Rick would never know. He had learned to live without Shane, just as he had adjusted to Lori's death. Lately though, he found himself grieving the death of Shane more than ever. He wasn't exaggerating when he had told Carl that he remembered him every day.

Shane wasn't the only loss he had experienced, but his death was the most painful one for Rick. Many people had been ripped out of his life since the outbreak. Their names flashed through his mind. _Lori. Dale. Amy. Andrea. Jim. Jacqui. Dr. Jenner. T-Dog. Hershel. Merle. Tyreese. Noah. Beth. Bob._ There were so many people he had loved and lost. He tried to remember every person's name and face, although his losses were staggering and the circumstances overwhelming.

He thought about the people who were fortunate to still be alive. _Glenn, Maggie, Carol, Daryl, Michonne, Rosita, Abraham, Eugene, Tara, Father Gabriel._ He added _Aaron_ to the group since he turned out to be genuine _._ They were good people, Rick was thankful for all of them. He loved them; they were his family now. Still, nobody could fill the constant emptiness that stemmed from his best friend losing himself. Not even Daryl—who Rick fully embraced as his brother, right-hand man, and confidant—could replace Shane.

He now looked at Michonne, who still appeared somber, but also concerned.

Rick trusted Michonne with his life, they had grown closer in the past several months. He could see himself developing a relationship with her—she brought a steadfastness to him that he needed when he felt riled up. She was great with Carl and treated him like her son. But she didn't know about Shane…he didn't think he ever told her about what happened to his best friend. He decided it was best not to openly discuss Shane with her. It was better to steer the conversation into familiar territory, to discuss a shared experienced they both understood.

"It's…it's like the train car," Rick said, remembering Terminus. Bringing up Terminus, the cannibalistic group, felt more comfortable than talking about Shane at that moment. Rick had a different mindset when trapped in that train car—a survivalist mindset that hadn't existed when Shane was still alive. "After the whole thing…I'm still there."

" _Still there."_ Rick recalled being locked in that train car, and how his captors had no idea who they were dealing with. _They're gonna feel pretty stupid when they find out…they're fucking with the wrong people._ A wry smile lit up Rick's face for a second and quickly disappeared as he listened to Michonne.

"Deanna wanted you in here to calm things down. Rosita passed you up. Carl came by for a while, I sent him home." She stood up and moved to the chair closer to the bed. "Rick…what are you doing?"

It was a valid question. _What am I doing?_ Rick asked himself. He didn't answer her question as he rubbed the back of his head. He knew what he was doing and he was certain Michonne knew, too. How could he explain that he found it impossible to flip the switch now that he was in Alexandria? He couldn't bring himself to reverting back to the man he used to be, and furthermore, he didn't _want_ to. He didn't want to regress to who he was when he first awoke from his coma. He didn't want to go backwards, become complacent, or "get weak" as Carl and Carol had warned him. He saw signs that Michonne and Daryl were becoming too comfortable behind the walls and he didn't want that to happen to him. Michonne showed openness to whatever position Deanna had for her and Daryl had questioned if safekeeping guns was necessary. Rick refused to let his guard down. His life depended on it—the lives of those he loved depended on it.

If Michonne noticed Rick's silence, then she didn't mention it aloud. She explained what happened after she knocked out Rick. "We put Pete in another house. You could've told me what was happening."

 _Could've…would've…should've._ "I move fast…and then Noah." He noticed her nodding in understanding. He had to be honest with her: "I couldn't tell you about the gun."

"No, you couldn't."

He felt relieved that she understood why he kept the gun a secret from her. He needed her to know that he didn't want to jeopardize her hopes of living and _staying_ in Alexandria. "You wanted this place," Rick said.

"We had to stop being out there." Her words were direct and her tone remained firm.

Rick wondered if he missed being "out there" as opposed to being behind these walls. At least "out there", he was among those who had experienced enough life/death situations and knew what it took to survive. He trusted his group to back him up just as he would back them up. He recalled what Glenn had shared with him when he, Nicholas, and Noah were trapped: Nicholas was inexperienced, terrified, and clueless on how to handle a scenario where Death stared him in the eye—and it cost Noah his life. Same with Abraham—he refused to abandon Francine when the rest of the Alexandrians panicked. She was alive because of Abraham and Tobin knew it.

Behind the walls, the Alexandrians were safe—but they were safe _only_ behind the walls. Once they were "out there", they were ignorant as to how to protect themselves and each other. It was obvious the outbreak hadn't touched them after Carol told him about meeting with the housewives and how their biggest concern was making sure they had enough protein in their diet. It was laughable considering that Rick and his group had once ate dog meat to live to see another day. _Protein shakes, cookies, pasta-makers, license plates, bookclubs, pickles...Shane, if you only knew,_ Rick thought, amused. He could only imagine Shane's reaction, if he were alive to see the Alexandrians worked up over trivial matters. _Man, you'd blow your top off—it'd be worse than that time you busted open Hershel's barn!_

Rick did everything he could to not laugh aloud. He maintained a solid exterior as he needed to focus on what Michonne was telling him: _"We had to stop being out there."_ He looked around the room he was situated in.

"Well, we're here." _In this bubble,_ he wanted to add.

"Well, you just said you weren't," Michonne challenged.

He didn't know what to say, and he was glad when the door opened and Glenn, Carol, and Abraham came into the room so he wouldn't have to answer. Their conversation was a blur to Rick. Carol asked him where he got the gun and why, he told them he confiscated it just in case. Glenn mentioned Deanna's plan for a meeting and Abraham voiced his concern that the town would kick Rick out. Carol urged Rick to tell the townspeople that he was worried about someone being abused, no one was doing anything about it, and that he took a gun just to be sure Jessie was safe from a man who ended up attacking him. He heard more snippets of their conversation, but his mind was reeling from taking everything in.

"—guarding the armory—" Glenn.

"—we have knives—" Carol.

"—after all the nice words and they try to kick him out—?" Abraham.

"—these people are children and children like stories—" Carol.

Rick couldn't believe it. Deanna was actually planning to hold a meeting to discuss if he should be exiled from the community. It made him think he would've been better off staying "out there". If he were still "out there", he wouldn't be kicked out of the group for defending a woman from her abusive husband. Or for beating the daylights out of a man who would've gladly killed him.

 _Didn't Shane beat the living shit out of Ed?_ The question crossed through Rick's mind, as Carol had recently confided to him what Shane had done for her. Maybe Shane was angry at Lori and taking it out on Ed, or maybe he was fed up with seeing Ed abuse Carol without any repercussions. Rick chose to focus on the latter, although a part of him felt Shane's reasons were a combination. He had experienced Shane's temper first-hand during their fight at the abandoned public works station when they were supposed to drop off Randall. He understood Shane feeling angry at Ed for taking advantage that there was no law to punish or hold him accountable for violence against his wife—and possibly his daughter, Sophia.

Rick felt the same way for Jessie and took the law into his own hands when he beat up Pete. He had asked Pete to leave, Pete didn't and threw the first punch at Rick. So Rick beat the living hell out of Pete without a single regret. In his mind, Deanna was partially to blame since she chose to look the other way when she knew he was abusing Jessie. Doctor or no doctor, surgeon or no surgeon—Pete had no right to put his hands on his wife, and Rick was simply doing the job that Deanna asked of him. Only Rick took it a step further and had an outburst and waved a stolen gun around. He was certain that's why he was facing the possibility of exile.

To the Alexandrians, exile equated to death. Rick wasn't afraid. They could force him outside of the walls, so that he was "out there" again—he was fully capable of surviving. In a flash, he saw his children's faces in his mind. He remembered his joy at being reunited with Carl when he first joined the group, and when he saw Tyreese holding Judith after thinking she was dead. He didn't want to be separated from his children. He had to think of his son, and his daughter (or Shane's, he never knew Judith's true paternity—not that it mattered at this point.) Only Death could separate him from them. There was no way in hell he'd allow Deanna to put any distance between himself and his children. So he came up with a plan off the top of his head:

"Tonight...at the meeting, if it looks like it's going bad, I whistle. Carol grabs Deanna, I take Spencer, you grab Reg," he said, pointing in Michonne's direction. "Glenn and Abraham cover us, watch the crowd."

"We can talk to them," Michonne insisted. She didn't like the direction this was going in—and she couldn't believe that it was Rick making these awful plans. She felt the Alexandrians were rational. After all, they didn't execute Rick on the spot for his actions, they separated him and Pete and wanted to have a meeting to discuss everything that had happened.

"Yeah, we will." Rick's voice was confident, but inside he was fuming.

 _Talk to them..._

He was reminded of his old self, of the man who wanted to rationalize and empathize with others. Time and time again, he had tried talking to others with poor results. _I tried talking to Shane…_ Rick sighed. He didn't want to complete that thought. _Tried talking to Dave and Tony—they were a threat and had to go._ Rick had acted on gut instincts that night, he knew both men and their group would take Hershel's barn for themselves. _Tried talking to the Governor._ _Look how that turned out._ The Governor beheaded Hershel in front of his daughters, Beth and Maggie, and destroyed their prison home, scattering the group. Talking to Gareth was futile. He made it sound like his group were the only ones struggling with hunger, and before that, he didn't listen when Bob attempted to talk him out of what they planned to do to the group: carve them and consume them. _You're the butcher or you're the cattle._ Carol had shared with Rick that was Terminus' slogan and his first thought was: _you join them or you end up on their dinner plate._ Joe and the Claimers didn't want to "talk". Daryl tried doing that and was nearly beaten to death and Carl was almost raped. Not to mention that Rick and Michonne came within seconds of being brutally murdered.

Now Rick reflected on how he tried to talk to Deanna. Set up a look-out to scope out any walkers or threats. Carry guns. Protect yourselves. Don't let just anyone come through the gates. Address the problem of Pete abusing his wife. He had talked to Deanna from the first interview she had with him. A lot of good that did him or anyone else. He was done with talking. They needed action, since it spoke much louder than any words he could've said at this point.

"If we can't get through, we take the three of them and say we'll slit their throats." Rick wasn't aware of how calm he sounded when he spoke about this plan.

"Like at Terminus." Glenn's comment was a statement, not a question. He sounded as shocked and dismayed as Michonne did. He couldn't fathom what Rick was proposing—especially after what they had experienced at Terminus.

"No, we just tell them. They give us the armory and it's over."

Glenn was quiet as he contemplated what Rick was saying and planning. Rick's actions could lead to all of them being exiled. Just when they finally found a permanent and safe home; it was scary to imagine how quickly it could be undone by one's man's impulsive actions. Because in Glenn's mind, Rick was behaving rashly—even if he felt justified. He wondered what Rick wanted and he forced himself to ask that question aloud. "Did you want this?"

"No." Rick was now forced to really think about what had happened. "I hit my limit," he said, hating to admit that he had hit rockbottom. "I screwed up, and here we are." He glanced at Michonne, not liking the grave expression on her face. She looked upset with him, as though he was mocking her for wanting to be here in the Alexandria Safe-Zone. He wanted them to leave him alone. He had more than enough to think about from what had transpired and what lay ahead in the near future. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm just gonna sleep some more."

Rick turned away from them and was relieved when he heard them leave. He hated explaining himself to his own friends. It was bad enough Deanna didn't listen and refused to understand. He heard the door close and was glad to be alone. Rick laid on the pillow, allowing his mind to drift back to Shane.

He never imagined he would sound, talk, or act like Shane. Back then, Shane sounded angry most of the time. He was never good at hiding his frustration, but after the outbreak while staying at Hershel's farm, he became more adamant and in-your-face about his views. Everything he spoke about was focused on survival and making sure the group understood, although they didn't at the time. The group was in a much different place at that time, and Shane…Rick realized now that he was ahead of everyone. _You were ahead of your time, brother. We weren't where you were at._

As for his actions…this was the hardest part for Rick to face. He had wanted to take Jessie away from Pete. He had coveted another man's wife…much in the same way Shane had desired Lori. Rick wanted to protect Jessie from Pete, who was controlling. Shane had wanted to do the same thing for Lori—protect her. Not because Rick was abusing her, but because he didn't think Rick could keep her and Carl safe.

Rick closed his eyes when he thought about how his recent actions mirrored Shane's. Both men had looked for love in the wrong places and with the wrong people. Rick admitted that he was lonely—his marriage had been difficult towards the end, and the outbreak seemed to worsen things between him and Lori, especially since Shane had slept with her. Rick recalled Shane's history of running around with many women. He didn't have anyone stable until he helped lead Lori and Carl to safety. Maybe Shane was lonely, too.

Rick rubbed his hands over his face, not wanting to think about it anymore. It didn't help to ruminate over the past. He couldn't change what had happened before, and he was doubtful it would affect his immediate future. Still, he was determined to show the Alexandrians that he meant business when he talked about survival. They were so naïve and it irritated Rick to think he had once been like them. Not to their extreme level of not knowing what was "out there", but sheltered enough that he had difficulty accepting Shane's stance about living in the real world.

He then decided at that moment that his past helped define his present. His past encounters with the Governor and Terminus, and most of all, his previous arguments with Shane about the way the world was now and how to _survive_ had remained an important part of him. And Shane had never backed down. Not for an instant. Rick knew he must be the same way if he were to ensure the Alexandrians listened to his stance.

As he drifted off to sleep, one last memory flashed through his mind. Rick remembered finding Shane later after he had confronted him. It was the same day he had tried talking to Shane near Hershel's barn. Shane had left the house after Hershel shut him down in front of everyone. They had been meeting about Randall, but Hershel was still angry about Shane breaking open his barn and shooting the walkers. Rick and Shane had gotten into an argument for what seemed like the hundredth time. Shane had left Rick abruptly, after feeling like he wasn't being listened to. Rick had gave him his space, but later that evening, he had overheard a conversation between him and Andrea.

" _So Rick spoke with you?" Andrea had asked. "I told him to find you."_

" _Yeah, but he ain't listenin' to me. No one is. S'okay. One day, they'll get it."_

" _You think so?"_

" _I know so."_

 _There was a long period of silence._

" _I just hope I'm around when that time comes."_

 _Andrea sounded shocked by Shane's words. "Of course, you'll be around. Why wouldn't you be?"_

" _I dunno—just a passin' thought. Life's full of twists an' turns."_

 _"It is."_

 _Shane laughed, but Rick thought he sounded sad. When Shane spoke again, Rick felt chilled to the bone. It was as though Shane was speaking prophetically, although he didn't realize or intend it to sound that way:_

" _If I don't make it, someone else will stand my ground."_

Before sleep overtook him, Rick knew in his heart that this particular time had come. And that "someone else" whom Shane Walsh referred to—was none other than Rick Grimes.

 **The End**


End file.
